


Absent-Minded

by fwooshy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drarry Discord Writers Corner Drabble Challenge, M/M, Memory Loss, Potions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27754771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fwooshy/pseuds/fwooshy
Summary: Harry mixes up the bottles at the apothecary and picks up a Forgetfulness Potion instead of his usual Sleeping Draught.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 16
Kudos: 39





	Absent-Minded

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the monthly Drarry Discord Drabble Challenge. The prompt was _potions_ and the word limit was 394. (get it? heh heh)

The other day Harry mixes up the bottles at the apothecary and picks up a Forgetfulness Potion instead of his usual Sleeping Draught. The potioneer at the counter gives him an odd look when Harry takes out his coin purse to pay for it, but Harry disregards him because the potioneer is Draco Malfoy. That night, when Harry gets ready for bed he notices the tag on the potion, blue instead of the usual yellow, and realizes the mixup. But it’s already past midnight, and he’s had a long day, so he pretends he doesn’t see it and knocks the potion back in one gulp.

Within minutes Harry’s mind is cotton-soft and blissfully blank. It’s the best sleep he’s ever had. He buys two the next day, and swigs one down just outside the door, just before he remembers the smell of blood spilling out of Draco’s chest again.

Sure, he forgets things, but Harry’s figured out a system. The potion comes in waves, leaving troughs of lucidity in the morning for Harry to jot down agendas for himself. The rest of the day follows easily as 1-2-3. One, shower. Two, work. Three, the apothecary. Every day the potioneer’s brows raise higher and higher, but he never speaks, because they’re not friends, or so Harry thinks anyway, he can’t remember why. Maybe they dated before, and it didn’t work out. It’s a shame, because the potioneer is really devastatingly attractive, with his crisp angles and flinty grey eyes, exactly Harry’s type, and Harry is lonely enough to want even through the fog of forgetfulness.

One day the potioneer refuses to take his galleons. The potioneer says, “Potter, I won’t let you kill yourself this way,” in a plummy sort of a hiss, like a jeweled cobra, or maybe a dragon.

The potioneer’s words sound like a threat, and when Harry responds back he sounds dangerous too, or angry, at least. Harry says, “Piss off, Malfoy. I’m less dead than I was without it. It’s the only way I want to live.”

His words sound strange to him, dreadful in their heavy despair. He’s mortified by how hateful they are, and he wants to take them back.

It’s a hot day outside. Harry hears the potioneer calling his name, although he doesn’t know why. So he smiles and asks, “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

**Author's Note:**

> Whew thank you for reading! Special thanks [slytherco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherco/) for hosting the drabble this month. 💛
> 
> You can find me on [dw](https://fwooshy.dreamwidth.org/) and [tumblr](https://fw00shy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
